Honestly
by ForfeitsOfFury
Summary: "Really?" "Truly." "Honestly?" "Honestly." - Just a collection of one-shots in no particular order. Mostly based on songs. (Most are about Enoch or Olive.) I shall update as much as possible, but that, honestly, will be awhile.
1. Dollhouse-Melanie Martinez

**D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E, I see things that nobody else sees…**

Enoch needed to run. Fast. As fast as he could. Away from everything. Away from every _one._

"EENOCH!" Enoch's blood ran cold. He had outrun the thing! "EENOCH!" The voice called again.

"No…" Enoch's feet stood planted in the mud, as if it were a sticky, fast-drying glue.

"EENOCH!" A dark form pushed away from a spindly tree near the edge of the forest.

"Enoch! I've been looking for you!" The dark presence laughed. It stepped into a misty patch of moonlight, revealing a bedraggled man. If you could still even call him a man.

A manical smile curled up the corners of his mouth, revealing decaying, blackened teeth. The man's right eye was wide open, the left twitching furiously. His dark hair stuck to his forehead, dripping with sweat. Dirt and grime layered him face and stuck under his cracked nails. A yellowish tint defined his thin face, and he licked his lips frequently.

"F-father?" Enoch choked, a bile raising in his stomach.

"We've been trying to find you, Enoch!" His father chuckled.

"W-we?" Enoch whimpered.

"Enoch! I've missed you so!" Enoch snapped his head towards the source of the voice, brown eyes flitting around the forest in fear.

Enoch O'Connor was genuinely frightened.

"How did you forget so easy?" The voice giggled.

Another breathing form stepped out to join Enoch's father.

Her dress, ripped. Her smile, terrifying. Her eyes, wide open. Her hair, clumps had obviously been ripped out with great force.

"Ann-Annabelle!" Enoch cried, staring at his little sister in disbelief.

Annabelle laughed, a sound throaty and chilling. "I brought you a friend so we can all play together!"

Enoch felt hot, wet tears rolling down his pale cheeks, sweat slickening his forehead and flattening his curly locks into a tangled mess. "Please, don't. I doln't wanna know-"

"Aw! But Enoch, I'm your best friend!" Enoch's tears began to flow faster at the sight of fiery red hair. "O-Olive!"

Enoch barely managed to keep the sour taste of puke out of his mouth. "Leave m-me a-alone!"

Olive's grin melted into a frown. "No!"

Enoch licked his chapped lips, tasting the salty tang of tears. "Please…"

"Aw, Enoch! I didn't think you were one to beg." A soft yet broken voice reached Enoch's ears. The voice he sought for comfort…

"Mother." He breathedd.

"Not anymore. You're no son to me."

Enoch let out a heart-wrenching sob.

"No, don't cry, Enoch!" Annabelle squeaked. "We were wondering if you would join us!"

Enoch's brow furrowed. "Join you?" Olive yanked off a glove, grinning and letting a flame dance acrossed her fingers.

Enoch's eyes widened and he put his hand up to his throat, as if guarding it.

"N-No." He stuttered.

Olive frowned once more, but it was more of an ugly scowl. "No? But I'm afraid you have to, dear."

In the split second it took Olive to lunge at him, Enoch's finger brushed against the large shard of glass in his pocket.

Enoch drew the sharp item from it's confines of fabric. And with one swift movement, he thrust his hand forward to Olive's chest.

Olive looked down in disbelief, watching as a thick red liquid seeped from her body, tears threatening to spill over.

Enoch glanced down at his own hands, shaking and covered in a thick, black, sticky substance.

Enoch's throat hurt like fire, burning up his insides. His eyes strayed to the lifeless girl in his arms, a lone shard sticking from her chest.

He felt something wrap around his waist and worm it's way into his eyes. Enoch let out a strangled, choked cry before blacking out.

. . .

 **Open the walls, play with your dolls, we'll be a perfect family** …

Alma Lefay Peregrine hugged her eldest charge close to her chest, fingers getting tangled in his dark curls.

The front of the ymbryne's dress was soaked with tears, but that was the least of Alma's concerns.

An alarming cry was torn from Enoch's lips, inflicting a sqeal from the doorway.

Alma's sharp gaze flickered to the entrance of Enoch's room.

Olive pushed away from the doorframe, silent tears streaming down her face like a river.

Alma's gaze met Olive's, silently suggesting her to take a place on the messy bed.

Enoch's hands grasped Alma's dress tightly, yanking it away from her skin for seconds at a time.

"Shh…" She whispered, rubbing Enoch's back gently. His choked sobs slowed to soft swhimpers before ceasing entirely.

Olive wrapped her pale arms around him, hugging him close as Alma loosened her grip.

Olive whispered simple nothings into Enoch's ear, rubbing his back with a single gloved hand.

Alma glided to the door, smiling slightlyh at her two eldest charges, watching as Olive began to nod off, still holding Enoch to her frail body.

"Sleep well," she whispered. "Sleep well, my children."


	2. Sticks and Stones-Jónsi

**Sticks and Stones-Jònsi**

* * *

 **Eyes open wide, blinded by the sun now**

 **Orange and white, dark red, green and yellow**

 **Rainbow colors! Do not hide, see the view!**

 **Step aside, go through!**

* * *

Olive sat atop the rough panels of tiles, a slight breeze hitting her face and sending a rare chill down her spine. Her hair slowly drifted into her face, a thin slice of fiery red obscuring her vision. Nevertheless, Olive loved it. She loved the thrill, she loved the difference it brang to her life that she lived, full of heat.

Olive had never known that Emma felt this every day. And now she did. She understood why this was so great. Sure, Miss P would be on her case for a week, but this would all be worth it.

Of course, Jake would get in trouble if Miss P found out, for it had been his idea to sneak a few children out of the loop to show them the sounds of the future. And those sounds were the most beautiful Olive had ever heard.

Olive slowly reached into a brown leather bag resting by her side, pulling out a feather quill and roll of parchment in the process (What Horace didn't know wouldn't kill him.). She smiled just to herself before gently reaching in to pull out an inkpot. Slowly, fluidly, she dipped her quill into the pot and began to drag it acrossed the parchment in fluid streaks.

She stopped a moment, scratching out her previous words. Olive hummed softly, working out the tune and words to herself, words slipping from her soft lips. She absolutely loved the feeling of the wind in her face.

Olive couldn't sing as well as Emma. Not even close. But she could sure try.

. . .

Olive has seen it coming. Sleepiness was overtaking her mind, forbiding her from participating in idle chatter. 'Just a bit longer...' She told herself, attempting to keep herself from dozing off.

Thinking of everything-anything!-to keep her from falling to the table with a soft snore.

Turns out Olive wasn't thinking fast enough.

"Olive?" She heard. It was faint, but Olive definitely heard it. 'One, two, three...' She whispered to herself, awaiting Miss Peregrine's scolding voice.

"Miss Elephanta! Please, remove your head from the table! It is rude to put your face onto the table." Olive reluctantly drew her head up, unsurprised to see a whole table either snickering at their plates or sneaking polite glances.

Almost a whole table.

Enoch sat a few seats away, snickering and glancing Olive's way, clearly glad for the attention to be off him for once.

"What've you been up to, Olive?" Enoch asked casually.

"Shove off." Olive shot back, a behaviour she rarely ever displayed.

Millard let out a small giggle. "Miss O'Connor, please, such behaviour is not polite." He stated, in an ill impersonation of Miss P.

Both Olive and Miss P sent a glare to Millard, Enoch pulling apart his food. "Olive, do you need to go back to bed?"

Olive immediately shook her head. "I'm fine, Miss P. Really."

Enoch snorted rather loudly, as if something Olive had said had amused him. Olive shot Enoch a wonderful evil eye. Boy, this kid was intolerable.

* * *

Enoch held up a hand, a silent gesture that told Olive what he needed. He needed something from her, but Olive couldn't quite remember...

Enoch groaned and leaned over, picking up a wrench in his calloused hand. "Good Lord, Olive. What were you doing last night?"

Olive yawned, pulling a gloved hand to her mouth sleepily. "I dunno, Enoch. What did I do?"

Enoch rolled his eyes before looking back down at his work. "Olive, would you please grab that pair of tweezers up there? Atop that shelf, yes. Don't knock anything down."

Olive was ready, but her mind sure wasn't. Her hand brushed the tweezers, and her body overbalanced the shelf. Uh-oh.

Covering her ears, Olive felt the piercing feeling of hundreds of shards of glass hitting her delicate skin. She crouched beside the fallen shelf, attempting to pull out as many glass bits as possible, without making her cuts larger.

 _"Olive!"_

Olive clenched her jaw, trying her hardest not to cry in front of Enoch.

 _"Olive."_

She heard the shuffle of feet outside the door, and the punctuation footsteps of her headmistress, coming up the stairs.

 _"Olive, you have to stand! Please. Get up, get up!"_

And in the next few moments, Olive was sure the pain would never end.

* * *

Olive watched as Enoch gently held her arm up, using a pair of tweezers to yank out shards of glass.

"Sorry." He muttered gruffly as Olive squirmed in his grasp.

"It's-it's okay." Olive groaned, flinching when Enoch applied water to her open wounds. "You don't have to do this."

Enoch glanced up, then went back to pulling and cleaning, pulling and cleaning. Never saying a word.

Olive stared at the splintered wood shelf resting on the floor, broken glass, water, and organs resting around it.

"Sorry about the shelf."

Looking up at her again, Enoch only paused momentarily. And in the time it took to shift his eyes back to Olive's already pale arms, he pulled the glass shard he had been pulling crossed it, drawing even more blood.

Olive released a shrill squeal, gritting her teeth with pain.

Enoch immediately looked down at her, concern filling his eyes. His head dropped into his hands, and Olive detected slight groans coming from his mouth.

"Enoch?" Olive asked, resting her still sore hand on his knee.

"I'm okay." Enoch whispered. "Just...I'm almost done."

He picked up a packet of bandages and began wrapping them around Olive's cuts and bruises.

Olive squirmed as the bandages were applied, finally finding relief, as the cuts were no longer exposed to open air.

Enoch, once again, held his head in his hands, avoiding eye contact with Olive at any cost.

"Enoch, I-"

It came as a total surprise. As Enoch launched himself at her, Olive wouldn't help but feel as if something was off about the necromancer.

"Olive, I'm so sorry. I just got so scared and thought that you-" Olive silenced him with a warm embrace, his arms enveloping her with the scent of parchment and mint.

"I'm not leaving."

* * *

 **Stay close to me**

 **Count one, two, and three**

 **Hopping through your sleeves**

 **Bursting through the seams**

 **Open your eyes and see**

Olive wrapped her arms around her legs, feeling the evening breeze on her face and tossing her hair.

It was wonderful out here, perfect, even.

"Evening, Olive."

The thick Scottish accent came as such a surprise that Olive nearly fell from the roof.

Enoch slid down to rest beside her, fiddling his thumbs and twirling his hair in a desperate attempt to think of something.

"It's lovely tonight, isn't it?" Olive whispered, voice like a wind-chime on a windy day.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose it is."

Olive grinned, leaning back on her hands. "This is where I've been coming. At nights, I mean."

Enoch chuckled. "Really? What have you been up to, anyway?"

"Oh, nothing." Olive muttered.

"Come on, Olive. You can tell me anything."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

* * *

 **Sorry about my total lack of updates. I guess I just decided that I would do something today.**


	3. Try-Pink

_**Author's Note-I would advise not reading if you are triggered by mentions of multiple disorders and/or self harm. Thank you! (Also, this is more centered around Miss P and Olive, not Enoch.)**_

 **Try-P!nk**

* * *

 **Ever wonder 'bout what he's doing**  
 **How it's all turned to lies**  
 **Sometimes I think that it's better,**  
 **To never ask why.**

* * *

Weeks had passed since the accidental shelf accident, and Olive still found herself itching her arms and picking off new scabs each day. The scars were a seemingly permanent reminder of what she had done wrong this time.

The only antidote seemed to be the salty sea water surrounding Cairnholm. Miss Peregrine didn't know of course, for, unless necessary, Olive couldn't be outside the home's boundaries unaccompanied.

However, it wouldn't be all that bad if Miss P found out. After all, it helped with her wounds.

All of them.

* * *

What the others didn't know was that Olive had a few problems. She had scars on her back that hadn't yet healed, an Anxiety Disorder, a strong case of Athazagoraphobia, and, to top it all off, a recurring series of panic attacks.

Olive tried to stay happy, tried to help Miss Peregrine beat the disorders. She even tried cutting once.

Yet they stayed. With every remedy, every therapy session, every little scar, came an anxiety attack. Or an episode. Or even watching her own blood trickle down her arm.

Olive didn't fight for herself. She didn't fight for the satisfaction of knowing she had beat it. No, she fought because she needed to be there for her siblings. For her best friends. Her whole life.

And now, as Olive held up the small kitchen knife, her mind drifted to her family.

 _I'm doing this for them._

She watched as the knife slid down her arm, breaking the skin and drawing scarlet fluids.

Olive knew she had to stop.

But she didn't.

* * *

 **Funny how the heart can be deceiving**  
 **More than just a couple times**  
 **Why do we fall in love so easy**  
 **Even when it's not right**

* * *

Her arms were littered with scars, crisscrossed and jagged. Like a painting. An awful, horrible, twisted painting.

Olive let the wet, hot tears splash onto her pillow and roll down her cheeks. Holding her arm up to the light, she could see the many marks she had left on her pale skin.

Some were already scabbing over, and others were still angry red slashes. A few were still trickling blood, but most were completely dormant.

"Olive?"

She panicked at the voice just outside her door, and began frantically yanking her leather gloves on forcefully.

"Olive, may I come in?"

Olive gave a final pull to her left glove before responding. "Of course!"

Stepping inside the white room adorned with butterfly drawings and photos was like stepping into a fairy tale, or little Claire's bedroom.

"Morning, Enoch." Olive smiled, shifting her weight to hide her arms.

Enoch smiled, a rare gesture of affection. "Mornin'." He said this as if it pained him, in his eyes, a screen of concern.

"Miss P told me to check on you." Olive's smile widened. "What?"

Olive shrugged, careful not to expose her scarred arms. "I just felt like smiling."

Enoch shook his head, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Well, we're going out on our walk, and Miss Peregrine thinks you should stay here today."

"A-alone?"

Olive felt her breath catch in her throat. Her breathing became heavy, her hands immediately darting to her neck.

"Olive? Are you okay?" Enoch dropped to his knees beside the bed, grasping Olive's arm in desperation.

Her breath wouldn't come. She couldn't-didn't-have control over her air. This was it. Olive was going to die. Olive's movements came in violent spasms, her back arching off the bed.

 _I don't want to die._

It was like the shelf all over again. The click of Miss Peregrine's heels on the stairs, the shouts and scuffle of shoes from the other children, Enoch's terrified words.

Only this time, Olive wouldn't live.

She was sure of it.

* * *

 **Ever worry that it might be ruined**  
 **And does it make you wanna cry**  
 **When you're out there doing what you're doing**  
 **Are you just getting by**  
 **Tell me are you just getting by, by, by**

* * *

Olive marveled at the fact that she wasn't dead. The moment her eyes opened up she saw Miss Peregrine staring own at her with a wet cloth.

Olive sat up, scratching at her pale arms. That was when she realized it. Her gloves weren't there.

"What-" Miss Peregrine shot the red-head a look, and she immediately recoiled.

Miss Peregrine worked silently, rubbing disinfectant on the wounds, bandaging them. Every beat of silence left Olive even more scared than she already was. Every beat made her fear for what could happen. For what could be in store for her.

"I-I'm sorry." Olive whispered, staring at her lap.

Miss Peregrine didn't so much as blink, only continued working on the arm. Disinfectant, bandages. Disinfectant, bandages. Disinfectant, bandages. A cycle of agony. A cycle of terror.

The silence scared her. It terrified her. It reminded her of all her mistakes.

Miss Peregrine set down her disinfectant and bandages, still not saying a word. Olive opened her mouth to say something, but didn't get so much as a peep out before her Ymbryne began talking.

"So." Miss P began, an unsettling silence falling over the room. "Where did you get these?" She asked.

Olive pulled her hair, subconsciously placing her arm behind her back. Miss P frowned and drew Olive's arm back, tracing the scars.

"I-I put them there." Olive whispered. She had never been so scared in her life. Heart thundering, hands trembling, eyes watering. Not even when so much blood was lost that she felt lightheaded.

"With what?" Miss Peregrine asked, voice surprisingly tranquil, as if she didn't know.

"A-a knife."

"Where did you get the knife?"

"Enoch."

Olive snapped. Her tears cascaded down her face in wet, hot falls. She tasted the saltiness.

Miss Peregrine pulled the girl to her chest, stroking her red hair and whispering.

"It'll be okay, dear. It'll be okay, Olive. My child."

And for that moment, it almost seemed like it would.

* * *

 ** _So, I'm sorry for the delay! Tons of stuff going on. This will now be my second priority, for I'm working on a HtTYD fic! Yay! Anyways, this idea was spurred while reading Enoch fics. I noticed that Olive never has many super bad problems like Enoch, so I decided to shed a new light. Any song suggestions? Put them in the reviews section!_**


	4. UPDATE

W. I forgot I had this account, to be completely honest. Well, if any of you remember or liked my works here (doubtful, they were terrible), I now write fanfiction at AO3 under the account name everythingrhymeswithorange. Hope to see you there.


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